


(with the exception of you) i dislike everyone in the room

by introvertkiki (hazelgyulatte)



Series: why am i blooming when i look at you? [1]
Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Crush at First Sight, Crushes, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Romance, but i think i'm the awkward one, they're crushing on each other so hard i hate it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29105643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelgyulatte/pseuds/introvertkiki
Summary: In which Mark relentlessly plays matchmaking for weeks, and finally Jinyoung relents just so he can prove his point – because Mark’s choice sucks and Jinyoung doesn’t need anyone to tell him that he needs romance in life.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung
Series: why am i blooming when i look at you? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2174880
Comments: 10
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my very first fic after years so apologize in advance for all the nonsense and gigantic plot hole just because. also, english isn't my first language but i suppose that shouldn't be the excuse to justify my rusty, beyond-saving writing skill, so consider yourself warned lol
> 
> oh and there will be only, like, two chapters (or three, depending on how i want to split the parts later).

Jinyoung narrows his eyes, an unpleasant look is clearly plastered on his face upon the words he just heard from Mark, his best friend – or a soon-to-be _ex_ -best friend, it seems so. But Mark remains unfazed, the same grin still lingers on his face and the eyes are still brimming with glee.

“Excuse you?” Jinyoung’s frown is deepened by his voice, low and deep, the long article he was reading is already forgotten once he tears his stare away from his phone. “Did you just tell me that _I_ somehow arranged a blind date with some stranger I’ve never even met _next weekend_?”

Mark’s smile grows even wider as he nods. “That’s right.”

The younger growls, “What kind of idiot who goes to a cakery for a blind date?”

“Apparently you are.”

If only Jinyoung was gifted with a superpower, the black-haired man hopes that his power would be emitting laser beam from his eyes like Cyclops just so Mark could disappear right away. “ _You_ are the idiot, Mark.”

Carefreely, as if he didn’t notice Jinyoung’s murder intent, Mark sweeps his blonde fringe away from his face and pulls his phone. His thumb is drawing a pattern on the screen as he sneers, “Do you want me to pick a different place?”

Jinyoung scoffs, quite in satisfaction, when he hears the other man’s squawk as his elbow lands snugly on Mark’s stomach. “No blind date, _idiot_ ,” he hisses, raising himself out of the chair and heading towards his room. “How many times have I told you that I’m not interested in dating anyone? At least, not now.”

“And how many times have I told you, Editor Park,” the playful tone remains in Mark’s voice, the one that’s too familiar to Jinyoung’s ears for both have been, surprisingly, friends for years, “that you’re _not interested_ only because you’re _not_ trying. At all.”

Jinyoung muses for a while. “Well, I _tried_.” He turns around, crossing his arms on his chest now. “But things don’t always work the way we want.”

But Mark only shrugs his shoulders, in the same familiar casual manner Jinyoung knows better doesn’t truly show how it is – Mark may often act playful, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that the older one never takes anything seriously. The blond walks towards where the front door is, not bothering to throw another glance at the other. “Well, then I suppose you didn’t try hard enough, Nyoung. Good night.”

The blond’s figure disappears once the door closes, the silence that’s left feels strangely deafening to Jinyoung. For a split second, he _almost_ considers agreeing to Mark’s scheme of matchmaking him with some stranger (Jinyoung only hopes that whoever they are, they’re not a creep), if only it weren’t because of the buzz coming from the phone in his hand.

A new message from Mark reads: _You sure you don’t want me to choose a different place?_

Jinyoung should’ve known better to not help a foreigner on his first day of university so eagerly only because he wanted to improve his English.

*

To those who meet Mark for the first time, the man – an American of Taiwanese descent – may come across as calm, collected, and polite. But just like that one old meme Jinyoung once saw on the internet: _it’s a trap_! Getting to know him better and better, Mark is playful at best and horribly mischievous at worst, and his stubbornness is on a whole different level – even without letting go of his politeness.

And all of this ‘Mark trying to make Jinyoung go on a blind date’ attempt is just another case of Mark getting on Jinyoung’s nerves. Especially because he does it relentlessly for the next few days, and _without_ crossing the line, even – it really annoys Jinyoung in a way that he can’t really get mad at his best friend because Mark only mentions the topic casually in their conversation (unfortunately, they talk and meet quite often since both live in the same apartment building) and never actually forces him. Not explicitly, at least.

It’s Wednesday night past 11 p.m when both of them are unpacking the take-outs – Chinese foods from the restaurant around the corner – and Mark, unsurprisingly, brings up the topic. “Do you want me to drive you there this Saturday?”

Having been exposed to such a topic for a week, Jinyoung no longer needs to ask the other to elaborate _just because_. “I’ve told you that I’ll be on leave starting from Friday, so chances are I’ll still be in my bed Saturday afternoon.” Without sparing a glance at the blond, he carries his own food and sits cross-legged on the only couch in the living room, perhaps purposely taking the center seat just so he won’t have to share it with the other guy. “Oh, I’ll be most likely sleeping the whole weekend anyway.”

Mark, fully understanding why the black-haired man takes the whole couch for himself, only snickers and forcefully squeezes himself in any opening – thank Lord for his slim build. Upon the sight of Jinyoung’s nasty stare, he merely wiggles his brow. “That’s very un-Editor Park-like.”

The younger one, albeit grumbling, scoots over. “It’s called Holiday Nyoung, where he won’t even care if the world would come to an end because he’s been anticipating the long-awaited break he deserves.”

“Huh,” the blond’s mouth is full with noodles, although Jinyoung can still make up the words, “being a news editor isn’t that hard, especially when you’re in the Business Desk.”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung rolls his eyes, “thanks for your useless input, Mr. Pro Gamer.”

“But y’know,” Mark swallows his food and turns to the other, his half-empty plastic bowl is in his lap, “I highly advise you to give _it_ a try.”

“Mark, I—”

“Meet him, and if it fails, I will never, ever, ever try to play matchmaker again.”

Jinyoung frowns, turning his head slightly to meet the other man’s oddly firm stare, “That’s hardly a deal.”

The blond groans, rolling his eyes as he leans back to the couch. “Alright. That, and I’ll get your coffee for a week. There, I sacrifice my precious bedtime for you. Aren’t I such a perfect friend?”

The creases form on the corner of Jinyoung’s eyes when he grins and chuckles – being a night owl since forever, Mark never sleeps before the clock hits 8 in the morning. And the sight of the older one being all agitated for neglecting his precious bedtime to get Jinyoung his even more precious caffeine intake for a week is absolutely the one worth anticipating. “No, you’re not,” he fixes his stare back at the TV, the grin on his face grows wider, “You’re the best. Now finish your meal so I can kick you out and resume my work.”

*

Friday went smoothly for Jinyoung, much to his surprise. Because even though he’s no longer working in the City Desk where he used to work and live restlessly, chasing down every bit of news across the city whether it was a local sensation or political scandal, sometimes there are bits of work he still has to finish on weekends or even when he’s on leave, mainly because the head editor relies and trusts him – perhaps a little too much, given Jinyoung’s stellar academic background as a business major.

However, no matter how much he’s willing to sleep in, old habits die hard, indeed. And so he finds it unsurprising that he’s already wide awake at 6 a.m on Saturday, even when he went to bed at 2 after a movie marathon with no one else but Mark.

Jinyoung grunts as he feels something churning inside his stomach, perhaps from the soft cookies and fudgy brownies he ate the night before – a “gift” from his friend. It’s not like Jinyoung’s never snacked at night, but it’s always been everyone’s favorite Korean late night snack: _tteokbokki_ , _chimaek_ , any kind of _jeon_ (especially _gajijeon_ ), you name it.

Only after he’s done showering does Jinyoung finally check his phone, the device is in his left hand while the other one is pouring milk into a glass bowl – there are some soft cookies left from last night and he plans to dip one in milk for breakfast. Unsurprisingly, Mark left him a message, most likely sent after the older returned to his own place.

_Mark: 3 p.m. Don’t forget. I swear you won’t be disappointed. (_

A scoff leaves Jinyoung’s lips as he closes the messaging app and checks his email – fortunately, there are only two reminders for Monday when he’ll be back to work: one is for an evaluation meeting and another is for an internship interview. He’s still surprised that he’ll finally go to meet any stranger with whom Mark has set him up today, out of any other day. His weekend plan seems to go accordingly, and for a second, the man is tempted to cancel the plan at the last minute just so he can finish another new book he bought last month, perhaps while snacking on the cookies – “ _I must ask Mark where he bought it_ ,” he reminds himself.

But of course, the deal is more tempting. Although he’s fully aware that the deal isn’t anything big – after all, it’s only a week’s worth of Americano – all Jinyoung needs is to get his best friend to finally stop trying to make him meet _anyone new_.

“Man, you know that it’s not like you’re going to spend the rest of your life with them, right?” Mark once pointed out last year, when Jinyoung once again turned down the idea of introducing him with someone. “I only thought that, ‘Whoa, this person looks good with Jinyoung.’ Both of you may even become friends so you won’t have to stick with me for the rest of your life.”

And Jinyoung only replied with a snort, always, “I know, but I’m not interested, is all. You’ve seen how I’m not tailored for any romantic relationship for so many years. I don’t think I’m still interested in building any new relationship from scratches, being friends included. Not at this age. So pride yourself on being the sole best friend of Park Jinyoung.”

“Huh,” the other guy rolled his eyes, “you’re only 27, yet you make it sound as if you’re already 67.”

But today, everything is about to change, since Jinyoung is determined to prove that Mark’s choice sucks and he doesn’t need romance in his life – he’s got the job he’s been dreaming of, and the pay is more than enough to spoil him with new books, premium digital newspaper subscriptions, nice foods, cozy place to live, and daily caffeine intake. His social life doesn’t look as bad as Mark seemingly tries to paint as he manages to maintain a healthy relationship with his colleagues at work. Heck, lady next door even often offered him her homemade meal.

And with the last spoon of cookie cereal – “I _definitely_ have to ask where Mark bought it,” Jinyoung takes another mental note – his determination is only growing firmer. He picks his phone and punches the screen, typing in a new message for his best friend, who’s most likely still deep in his slumber.

_Jinyoung: Mark Tuan, I’ll be sure to make you stop this time. And where did you get the soft cookies from? They taste heavenly._

*

Of course, Jinyoung doesn’t let Mark drive him to the cake shop, as if he were a toddler on his first day of school and Mark were his parent. In fact, Jinyoung left his place early before 1 p.m just so he could drop by the stationery store near his office for new packs of Post-It notes before heading to a _gimbap_ place he often frequents for lunch. The new book he initially planned to read for his day off is in his hands – _Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning_ by Cathy Park Hong – and he puts a slice of _gimbap_ into his mouth. Being a regular for years, the lady who owns the place allows him to eat in her living room so Jinyoung can enjoy both the book and meal peacefully, a sight she no longer finds odd.

He stays there for an hour or so, having a small, friendly chat with the owner as he waits for the cab he’s called. According to the location Mark shared a few days ago, the cake shop is about 10-minute drive from his office. When the cab arrives, he pockets the book in his coat and bows at the lady, waving her a good-bye.

Indeed, the drive is relatively a short one, and Jinyoung finds himself standing in front of a cake shop designed with glass façade and an industrial-looking arched door, exposing the interior for the passerby; the place looks modern and minimalist, the painting is all white and so the colorful cakes in the display quickly grabs his attention. The sign is made of weathered wood plank, the name reads Ugly Cake Shop – it seems like a mock since nothing about the place screams _ugly_ , and Jinyoung can’t help but wonder why the owner even picked such a name.

The man puts his right hand inside the pockets of his coat, still undecided if he should come inside. He knows he’s early (his phone tells him it’s only 2.35 p.m), but the place doesn’t seem to have a seating area inside, at least not from where he’s standing. Besides, it looks like the place is empty – there’s no one behind the counter, let alone the stranger Mark describes as nothing but ‘you’ll know later once you’ve met him’.

After a quick thought, he finally decides to enter the shop but only when his hand holds the door does Jinyoung finally catch the presence of someone inside the cake shop. The stranger is dressed in white top and black slacks, and Jinyoung immediately guesses that the person works there solely based on the double-breasted jacket and apron cladding the figure – he might be the pastry chef.

It doesn’t take long for the chef to notice Jinyoung’s presence; he turns his head and that’s when Jinyoung is _doomed_. Because the chef’s black, shoulder-length hair and nose stud instantly screams the Bad Boy aesthetics, yet it doesn’t quite conform to the whole setting and outfit and warm, buttery smell in the air. Or perhaps, the chef is simply _attractive_ and suddenly, Jinyoung wonders if that’s the stranger Mark told him about.

Much to Jinyoung’s disappointment, the other man instead greets, “Hi, is there anything I could help?”

Though, in all honesty, the disappointment is washed away immediately once Jinyoung notices how the eyes form a pair of crescents, the voice is tinged with a distinct warmth as comforting as the smell of freshly baked cake the chef is holding in his hands – the sleeves are rolled up to the elbow, and Jinyoung steals a glance at the forearm.

 _Damn, they’re hot._ “Uh, I—” the man coughs, taking a careful step towards the counter, “I’m meeting someone here at 3.”

The chef gives Jinyoung a brief surprised look before shifting his stare to the display counter, where he put the blue cake he’s holding carefully – it’s a Cookie Monster cake. “That’s… surprising.”

Jinyoung clears his throat again, “Why?” And suddenly feels the heat creeps up to his neck once he notices how _deep_ his voice sounds; the idea of the living hotness standing behind the counter mistakes him for flirting is the last thing Jinyoung expects.

Fortunately, the man doesn’t seem to notice anything, beaming the same genial smile as he straightens his back and places both his _exposed_ forearms on top of the glass surface. “Our customers often drop by for a takeaway. Besides, you see, my place isn’t the one for people to hang out.”

“Oh, you’re the owner?” Jinyoung gulps, unable to avert his gaze mainly because he was taught by his mother to maintain an eye contact when he’s conversing with people (or so he thinks).

The smile grows wider as the eyes ingenuously disappear into yet another pair of crescents. The chef laughs heartily, his head nods slightly. “Surprisingly yes.”

Not knowing how he should respond, Jinyoung merely mimics the nod and _finally_ , shifts his stare to look around the place. For a brief moment, the silence lingers, melding with the warm scent wafting throughout the space. Jinyoung can feel the long-haired man’s eyes on him, though, and the thought somehow makes the turtleneck too tight around Jinyoung’s neck.

“But, you see,” the other man breaks the silence and walks towards the door Jinyoung assumes leads to the kitchen, “we have a bistro table on the corner, near the front door. I’ll take the seats out of the storage so you can wait there.”

Before Jinyoung can say anything, the chef immediately disappears and so he’s left alone. Unsure of what to do, he turns around and quickly spots the said table so he silently approaches it. The table is tucked into the corner near the arched door, its black paint contrasts the white walls effortlessly.

With a quiet grunt, the chef reappears with two stools, one in each hand. Jinyoung rushes quickly, offering his hand to carry one – the corners of the other male’s lips arch upwards as he hands him the stool, to which Jinyoung replies with a smile he hopes looks at least less awkward as he thinks to be. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

The long-haired man sweeps the strands away from his face, tucking them behind his ears once he’s done setting the stools. “Let me know if you’d need anything,” the smile is yet to leave the face, and Jinyoung can see the creases on the corner of his eyes clearly. “We only serve cakes now, though I can brew tea while you wait for your…?”

“No, I don’t want to bother you more than this,” Jinyoung slightly shakes his head politely, and lowers his gaze to the empty stool. “I can wait here. Would it be okay if I order for a takeaway later?” When he lifts his stare, he’s met with the chef’s dark, glinting eyes.

“Sure, it’s okay,” the other male replies. His eyes seem to be filled with uncertainty for a few seconds, and the sight makes Jinyoung curious, though it doesn’t last long once the chef extends his right hand. “I’m Jaebeom, by the way. Im Jaebeom.”

“Oh, I—” Jinyoung clears his throat, again and again, and welcomes the gesture in a firm handshake, “I’m Park Jinyoung.”

Jaebeom nods, something quite like amusement fills his eyes, “Nice to meet you, Mr. P—”

“Jinyoung.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s just— you can call me Jinyoung. Seems like we’re the same age.”

Another warm smile blooms on Jaebeom’s face, and Jinyoung also notices the presence of two moles above the other male’s left eye. “Pleased to meet you, Jinyoung.”

Humming his answer, Jinyoung’s mind can’t help but wonder what kind of idiot who named this place Ugly Cake Shop.

*

Although Jinyoung has no idea how the stranger Mark is trying to introduce him looks, he immediately knows _what_ kind of person they are, mainly because Jinyoung’s been sitting alone on the corner of the cake shop for an hour.

 _Are you pranking me?_ He shoots Mark a message, fully aware that his friend usually wakes up at noon.

And of course he’s right, because the other replies him almost immediately. _Why?_

_Jinyoung: They’re not here yet. It’s been an hour._

_Mark: Forgot to tell you it’s a ‘he’._

_Jinyoung: Is that even important now?_

_Mark: He’ll be there. Just wait._

Mark’s reply only triggers a scowl on Jinyoung’s face. Just when he’s about to type a reply, the other already sends another message.

_Mark: Don’t forget to buy me New York cheesecake._

Another presence falls into Jinyoung’s field of view when his thumbs are angrily busy punching the poor, innocent phone screen. The man raises his head, the same scowl is still on his face as he expects that whoever idiot Mark’s sending him finally shows up. However, the look in his face abruptly changes to surprise once he notices that it’s Jaebeom who’s standing across the small table with a bottle of drink in his hand.

“Here,” he places the bottle on the table – it’s coffee, “forgot I had this in the fridge. It seems like you need it more than I do.”

Jinyoung’s lips are agape, forming a small o. In the next second, a weak smile replaces the surprised look as he shakes his head lightly. “No, Jaebeom, you don’t have to.”

Jaebeom casually shrugs. “It’s not because I have to; I want to, is all.”

“Oh,” Jinyoung steals a glance at the innocent beverage, “Well, thank you.” He may be pissed off, but he can’t stay pissed off properly when he’s thirsty.

“It’s not a friend, isn’t it?”

Jinyoung pauses his movement when the bottle lips almost touch his lips, “Who?”

A small smile forms on Jaebeom’s face as he cocks his head. “The one you should’ve been seeing now.”

“Ah…” Jinyoung closes his eyes, relishing the taste of coffee quenching his thirst, and a chuckle escapes his lips. “It’s… a long story. He’s a friend’s _friend_ , for sure.”

“A date?”

“Umm…” Jinyoung’s head sways to one side and another, uncertainty is clearly painted on his pouted lips, “kind of?”

Nothing leaves Jaebeom’s mouth, and Jinyoung merely stares up at him, raising his brows. The other, however, shifts his gaze, a playful smile spread across his lips – from where he’s sitting, Jinyoung can still see how the arch pushes the cheeks upwards, turning the other male’s small eyes smaller in such a warm, pleasant way. “And looks like your _date_ ,” he steals a glance at Jinyoung as he teasingly emphasizes the word, “is finally here.”

And Jinyoung doesn’t necessarily have to trail the chef’s gaze since the door swings open almost right away. He turns his stare to find a male, dressed in both black and gray, who shoots him a questioning look.

“Aaaand that’s my cue to leave,” the amusement look doesn’t quite leave Jaebeom’s face when Jinyoung turns his head to him. “Good luck, Jinyoung.”

But Jinyoung isn’t mean to utter any word to the chef as the stranger approaches him. “You’re Jinyoung, right? Park Jinyoung?”

“Yeah,” the said man raises himself off the seat, the corner of his mouth twitches once he remembers for how long the stranger has made him wait. “You’re _late_.”

It takes only a split second for a grin to spread widely on the stranger’s face, so wide Jinyoung somehow wishes that it can split the other’s face into two for real. “No, I’m Jackson.” He offers his hand for a handshake, to which Jinyoung responds with a firm grip – because no matter how annoyed he is, his mother didn’t raise him to be rude. The grin on Jackson’s face quickly turns into a smirk, perhaps from noticing how _firm_ exactly Jinyoung’s grip is. “But you’re right,” he pulls his hand and smoothly seats himself across the small table, “I’m late. Sorry.”

It’s nothing but silence Jinyoung gives as a response, although the way he squints his eyes speaks louder than his words could ever do. After all, Jinyoung is the type of person who shows his anger, irritation, and annoyance from his glare only. And when he speaks up, he’s never a yeller.

Without breaking his stare – and with the same somehow familiar playful look in the eyes – Jackson continues explaining, the tip of his forefinger drawing random patterns on the black table surface. “I was having lunch with my friends at my place. I haven’t seen them in a while since I’ve been at home for weeks, so I lost track of time until Mark called me minutes ago. Oh, and I live nearby, by the way.”

 _You live nearby,_ the twitch on the corner of Jinyoung’s lips feels more intense, _yet you still have the audacity to come up late, huh?_ “And how do you know Mark?” Jinyoung leans back with his arms crossed, and suddenly his attention catches Jaebeom who, albeit saying nothing, is obviously watching them from his spot behind the counter. The sight only makes him roll his eyes, especially when the chef places his chin in his hand – even from the distance, Jaebeom’s eye smile is too easy to notice.

“You know us foreigners,” Jackson leans in, his finger no longer creates patterns on the table surface as he puts his right arm over his left one, “we’re always somewhat acquaintance – I know someone who knows someone who knows him, or something like that.”

Jinyoung only nods upon the explanation; that’s already expected, since Jackson’s accent can hardly go without unnoticed. “And why did you agree to meet me?”

The other man snickers, the brown orbs of his eyes glinting with yet another similar, somehow familiar mischievous-kind-of-delight. “Because I’m a good friend and Mark asked me if I’d want to meet you. Also, he showed me your picture, and everyone with eyes can see that you’re such a handsome fella.”

Once again, Jinyoung nods – it’s not like the first time someone compliments him for his look, and Jackson is dead wrong if he thought he could butter him up that easily. “Yet you still came late, meaning that I’m not _handsome_ enough to have your time.”

“Aww…” Jackson coos, hand reaching out to pinch Jinyoung’s cheek playfully, though he yelps the very next second once Jinyoung’s hand swats it. “Because told you,” he pouts, rubbing the spot where Jinyoung hits him, “I’m a good _friend_.”

“Huh,” Jinyoung rolls his eyes for the nth time. “I wonder what you and Mark actually define with being,” he puts his index and middle fingers up, making finger quotes, “‘ _a good friend’_.”

The other man only responds him with a genuine laughter, and not so long after, both are naturally deep in a conversation. Jackson knows everything about Jinyoung – the basic stuffs, of course, because despite his antics Mark is still a decent being – and tells him everything about himself – only the basic ones too, of course, because it’s not like they’re friends already.

Jackson tells him how he moved to Korea from his hometown in Hong Kong, where his parents are, to pursue a degree in political science, before he finally got involved in modern art – music, fashion, and stuffs – though he did manage to finish his study because it was what he promised to his father. He never met Mark until three years ago when both became a part of an art performance project. Currently, he’s working as a junior creative director for an up-and-coming branding agency, and apparently only a few months older than Jinyoung.

Although Jinyoung’s only objective is to prove that Mark’s wrong, he still has to admit that Jackson doesn’t suck. It’s rather the opposite, really, since the Hong Kongese is such a pleasant and entertaining company, although he absolutely won’t admit it to his best friend openly. Besides, none of them actually make a move – no hint, no flirtatious act, no nonsense – and so Jinyoung realizes that Jackson may make a good friend, indeed.

It’s almost six when Jackson receives a call. From what Jinyoung can hear, it seems like the other is about to meet his friends for dinner and whatnot, and Jinyoung doesn’t really mind that their first and most likely last meeting should end, mainly because he’s also starving. Besides, he needs to continue reading the book, and the comfort of his bed makes him miss his private space a little more.

“Thanks for today, Jinyoung,” Jackson smiles and hums a friendly ‘thank you’ to Jaebeom who hands him a box of Cookie Monster cake Jinyoung saw earlier. “And more importantly, thank you for not being actually mad at me,” the male winks, to which Jinyoung merely responds with a scoff.

“Just for the record,” Jinyoung’s eyes captures the glow on Jaebeom’s nose stud, “I’m not mad, but it doesn’t mean that it’s _okay_ to make someone wait. But you’ve apologized, and your apology is accepted.” His lips form a small arch when his stare is met with Jaebeom’s, who responds with the same small smile before he moves towards the corner Jinyoung and Jackson occupied earlier – Jinyoung follows the other with his eyes, not muttering any single word.

Another grin spreads across Jackson’s face, threatening to split his face into two – this time, Jinyoung doesn’t wish it to happen, though – when he nudges Jinyoung lightly with his shoulder. The man leans closer and whispers, “In all seriousness, though, you could’ve just left earlier. Why didn’t you?”

But before Jinyoung can respond, Jackson already leaves a hasty peck on his cheek and enthusiastically strides towards the door, loudly thanking Jaebeom again before he leaves the store.

“Are you going home now?” Jaebeom approaches him with a stool in each of his hand. However, this time he doesn’t return them to the storage but only relocate them to the empty corner behind the counter.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung fishes his phone out of the coat pocket and finds new messages from Mark. He scrolls up, ignoring the new messages and to look for one where the American told him what cake Jinyoung should bring home. Once he finds it, he puts his phone on the black marble countertop and observes the cake display. “I’ll have New York cheesecake and… actually, I have no idea,” meeting the chef’s eyes, Jinyoung shoots him an awkward smile. “Could you please choose for me?”

Jaebeom chuckles and speaks in a low voice, “Alright, don’t worry.” He then asks some questions regarding Jinyoung’s preference and finally takes a slice of carrot cake and a strawberry shortcake cup out of the display chiller, to which Jinyoung nods in excitement.

“Don’t forget the coffee,” Jinyoung adds hastily when Jaebeeom inputs the order to the cash register. “I should pay for that too.”

But the chef doesn’t spare Jinyoung a glance as he continues operating the machine, casually responding, “We don’t even sell drinks here, Jinyoung, so I can’t bill it.”

“Well, I can tip you?” However, the tip jar is nowhere to be seen on the counter.

“You don’t have to,” the chef snickers and accepts Jinyoung’s card, his eyes disappear into the wide smile.

The dissatisfaction must be quite visible on Jinyoung’s face because when Jaebeom’s about to return the card, Jinyoung reads hesitation from the way Jaebeom chews the inside of his cheeks and how his stare somewhat loses its focus, albeit only for a few moments.

“Wait a sec,” he murmurs and hurriedly strides towards the other room Jinyoung still assumes the kitchen. The chef doesn’t leave for too long, but when he returns, he’s holding a piece of paper in his hand.

Without uttering any single word, Jinyoung accepts the paper along with his card and a paper bag containing the cake box.

“I know it’s 2021 already,” the pink dusts Jaebeom’s cheeks when he speaks, subtly but visible enough under the shop’s lighting, “and I could’ve just borrowed your phone so I can give you my number. But I’m afraid that you’ll delete it right away.”

Jinyoung opens his mouth, only to be cut right away by the blushing chef.

“Hence I take this… more traditional measure because at least I can pretend that I’ve given you my business card. But hey,” Jaebeom clears his throat, pressing his palms against the black countertop, “I could see that your _date_ didn’t go quite as planned. So, perhaps we can, I don’t know, go on a lunch date? Or maybe having a relaxing chat over coffee? Only when you’re free. And when you’re interested, of course.”

Silence stretches between them, and Jinyoung is still gaping at the other man before him, his brain processing the words he just heard. _Wait a minute_ , he tips his head to one side, _did he just ask me out?_ And when the realization finally strikes him, the only sound that finally escapes from his agape mouth is a loud, “Oh!”

Unfortunately, just right when he’s about to give his answer, Jaebeom quickly fixes his posture and greets, “Welcome, Ma’am! Did you just return from your kid’s daycare?”

Jinyoung gives a curt smile to the woman who’s entering the place with a toddler on her side, moving to give way to them. From the exchanges they share with Jaebeom, it seems like they’re regulars – the chef, albeit focusing his attention to them, steals a glance or two towards Jinyoung’s direction, and Jinyoung only responds with a small smile on his face.

The lady and her daughter do not take too long inside the cake shop and leave right away with the similar paper bag in the kid’s hands. The amount of concentration she puts to keep the dessert safe makes her pout her lips – that sight tugs the tails of Jinyoung’s lips upwards and soon enough, the creases on the corner of his eyes follow.

“When they visit on Saturday, that means the mom has to work,” Jaebeom’s stare follows the two figures who are already outside, nodding when the woman waves at him before she disappears. “So she brings her kid here after she returns from work and lets her choose whatever cake she likes.”

“I see,” Jinyoung nods and turns to the chef. “You know what? Here’s my phone.” Hastily, he unlocks the device and taps the phone icon, before handing it to Jaebeom. His heart is beating way too fast Jinyoung swears it won’t be surprising if he’ll actually explode. “Give me your number. I promise I won’t delete it unless you ghost on me first. And give me your phone so I can give you my number.”

It’s Jaebeom's turn to gape at him this time, but Jinyoung isn’t willing to let it last for too long – otherwise his heart will jump out of his chest and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of a pretty creature named Im Jaebeom, especially when the other just openly showed his interest in him.

“Jaebeom?” asks Jinyoung impatiently. “Your phone. Please.”

The said male immediately breaks out of his stupor, his hand pulls his phone from his own pocket. “Here,” says Jaebeom after he unlocks the device.

“Sweet,” Jinyoung doesn’t even bother to resist the urge to grin that’s threatening his face – he doesn’t even care about how he looks right now, thinking that he must have looked like some highly enthusiastic school girl who’s meeting her idol. “Aaaand here’s my number. Park Jinyoung, followed by a peach emoji, in case there’s another Park Jinyoung or two you know.”

Jaebeom’s laughter is filled with pure warmth, and Jinyoung takes the liberty to associate it with the scent of vanilla and butter, perhaps with a sprinkle of cinnamon powder just like the cookie he had for breakfast this morning. “No,” the man is beaming when he returns Jinyoung’s phone, and Jinyoung isn’t trying to be cheesy but Im Jaebeom does smile brighter and warmer than the sun, “now I only know _one_ Park Jinyoung.”

“That sounds like a great start,” Jinyoung hums, not minding now if Jaebeom thinks that he intentionally lowers his voice. “Unfortunately, I have to leave now because I must settle something with my good-for-nothing best friend. I’ll see you soon?” Their fingertips touch when Jinyoung takes his phone back.

The eye smile still lingers on Jaebeom’s face, and perhaps Jinyoung can learn to get used to the sight. “Soon.”

The grin stubbornly refuses to leave when Jinyoung walks towards the door. However, he chuckles as he recalls something, and turns around. “And for your information, _that_ date went quite as planned. So next time we meet, I’ll absolutely set a much, much higher standard.”

It’s not difficult to notice the kindness in Jaebeom’s voice, not when he’s looking at Jinyoung like _that_. “I won’t be late.”

“Yeah, you can start with that.” And Jinyoung returns to his place with his heart overflowing with such a pleasant giddiness not even Mark’s endless stream of questions or his new book can distract him.

Not when Jaebeom texts him: _Good night :)_

*


	2. Chapter 2

“Who have you been texting these days?”

Jinyoung shrugs, trying to get rid of the weight of Mark’s head from his left shoulder. “Have you cleaned the coffee table?” he asks instead, locking his phone immediately and placing it on the round dining table, the screen upside down. Because _of course_ Jinyoung won’t tell Mark, at least as of now.

The blond only grunts as he glances at the phone, and then drags his legs to the sink where the trash bin is tucked in a cabinet below, his slouching back loudly screams how exhausted he is – he complained about his stupid client a few days back, and Jinyoung listened patiently, mainly because he has little understanding as to how freelance web developers work. “Dodging the bullet, I see.” A quiet thud of the bag of trash hitting the base of the bin follows his grunt.

“I see no bullet here,” answers the other nonchalantly. Approaching the sink, Jinyoung gently nudges Mark, gesturing him to move aside. “Go home and sleep, there’s no harm in sleeping before midnight. Actually, you’ll benefit greatly from it.”

To which Mark replies with a scoff. “You’re only saying that because I… still have to…” a yawn escapes his mouth, “…get you coffee tomorrow morning. Tomorrow’s Thursday, right?” From the way the confusion clouds his face, the blond’s brain is absolutely not working right now.

“Precisely,” the black-haired male chuckles, the sound mingles with the water as he turns on the faucet and starts doing the dishes. “As if I’d actually care about your health and well-being.”

Both know it’s a lie anyway, and Mark only smiles tiredly. “Is it Jackson?” asks him, pressing himself flat against the wall with his head turned to the direction where Jinyoung stands silently.

“Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, you’re a junior editor with years of experience in journalism,” a frown casts creases on Mark’s forehead. “You know and understand exactly the question I asked you, but all you can pull with your degree and work experience is playing dumb. And I know it’s _not_ Jackson.”

“Then why did you still proceed to raise the question?”

Even with his eyes half-closed and slurring his words, the mocking is still obvious in the blond’s voice, “Because _that’s_ why I still proceeded to raise the question, Editor Park.”

None of them exchanges a word as Mark’s brain is most likely already half asleep and Jinyoung simply refuses to answer. And so the next few moments are filled with nothing but the sound of running water as Jinyoung continues dishwashing.

“Mark,” Jinyoung raises his voice intentionally, hoping to wake the other man up even for a second, “I can’t trust you to go straight to bed after I kick you out so make the couch yours.”

Despite not even bothering to open his eyes, Mark manages to force every part of his body to move, relying fully on his muscle memory to navigate the room. After all, Jinyoung’s place isn’t a large, lavish one anyway. And so without Jinyoung’s help, he drags himself to the couch; the loud noise he makes once his body hits the cushioned seat makes Jinyoung wince, although he decides to not mention anything.

After taking care of the blond and ensuring that the man is comfortable under the spare blanket, Jinyoung sits on the dining chair and opens his laptop, giving some stories a last review before submitting them to the printing department, with a can of cold beer and Mark’s soft snore to accompany him. Just when he clicks the submit button, his phone lights up and a new message bubble shows up on the screen.

_Jaebeom: My part-timer suddenly called and said he wouldn’t be able to come tomorrow._

_Jaebeom: It’s an emergency & I have no heart to ask the others to cover him this late_

_Jaebeom: must be at shop the whole day so I guess we’ll have to cancel tomorrow :(_

Jinyoung heaves a long sigh, trying his best to conceal the disappointment despite knowing nobody’s there to see it, let alone Jaebeom. He’s been anticipating their meeting tomorrow, even though it’s supposed to be only a quick lunch at noon because Jaebeom wants to lend him some books – both of them apparently love reading and it’s one of the very first things they talked about ever since they started texting each other, the only difference being Jinyoung’s preference for non-fiction book while Jaebeom’s is fiction and prose.

After another sip of beer and another thought or two, Jinyoung replies.

 _Jinyoung: It’s fine_ 😊

_Jinyoung: At least I know that I can drop by this Saturday? Same hour?_

_Jaebeom: It’s not fine_ ☹

_Jaebeom: Still bummed out, though_

_Jinyoung: Same. I really look forward to tomorrow._

_Jaebeom: Worry not, Saturday is around the corner_

_Jaebeom: But that’s just me trying to console myself_

_Jinyoung: I know._

_Jinyoung: So, how have you been doing?_

They continue texting, talking about simple things and exchanging fun stickers, until Jinyoung can no longer stand the stiffness on his back. He then moves to his bedroom quietly after switching off the lights, making sure that he doesn’t cause any noise to disturb Mark from his much-needed slumber.

Once his bed welcomes his back in a familiar, comfortable hug, something crosses Jinyoung’s head. His phone is still in his hands, the room is dark and the only source of light comes from the screen, still displaying the last message from Jaebeom – a picture of his cat that’s snuggling oh-so-comfortably on Jaebeom’s chest. _Well, just go with it_ , Jinyoung tells himself, blowing air out of his lips.

_Jinyoung: Can I call you?_

_Jinyoung: As long as you’re still awake, of course._

_Jaebeom: Is there even any reason for me to say no?_

_Jinyoung: Your cat, perhaps?_ 😄

 _Jaebeom:_ 🙄

_Jaebeom: After years being my meowster, she should’ve known that the well-being of her hooman slave is just as important_

_Jinyoung: …you mean impawtant?_

_Jaebeom: Nice try, Mister Editor Nice try_

_Jaebeom: So when are you gonna call me?_

_Jinyoung:_ 😉

Luckily, Jinyoung doesn’t need to wait longer than a mere second as a raspy ‘hey’ greets him right away. He can’t quite fight the urge to smile widely to hear the voice from the other side, answering, “Hello.” Of course, he can’t risk himself being heard by Mark, and so he speaks as quietly as he can.

Jaebeom replies with a low hum, and Jinyoung can’t pretend as if the sound didn’t just stir _something_ inside him. “Miss me already?” The man chuckles softly, and Jinyoung assumes that it’s just so he won’t disturb his cat.

“Well, that depends,” Jinyoung lets the knots in his body loosen up, stretching his arms sideways and fixing his position.

Amusement fills Jaebeom’s voice. “Depend on what?”

“Depend on whether you want me to drop by tomorrow night and bring you fried chicken or not.”

“Oh?”

“Actually, I wanted to take you out for dinner but since you’ll have to stay at the shop the whole day…”

Just as if Jaebeom knew that Jinyoung intentionally leaves the words unfinished, he immediately answers, “And actually, I prefer you to go home and rest, but you probably already know what my true answer is.”

Jinyoung’s cheeks will probably ache soon as long as his lips keep stretching into a wide smile tonight. But that’s nothing but a trivial matter, of course, since the fact that Jaebeom never hides his attraction to _him is surely_ worth it.

“Great. I’ll text you when I get off work tomorrow,” Jinyoung’s hum is filled with joy.

“Please do,” Jaebeom answers, his voice is still as hushed. “Also, why are you talking so quietly? Are you afraid that _your date_ ,” the way he emphasizes the two words immediately makes Jinyoung roll his eyes, “will wake up?”

But Jinyoung only growls, “Shut up.” Because no matter how many times Jinyoung has explained what actually happened last weekend, that Jinyoung appearing in Jaebeom’s cake shop for a so-called blind date was just so he could make Mark stop trying to arrange such a meeting, it’s not like Jaebeom is going to stop making fun of him soon. “Mark’s crashing on the couch for the night.”

A whistle comes from the other end of the call. “Such a great friend.” Albeit spoken in a rather playful manner, Jinyoung can sense the sincerity in the compliment, and the warmth inside his chest only burns even stronger, spreading to the tips of his fingers.

“What are you doing now?”

Jaebeom purrs, “Catering to my furry master, of course.”

“And what were you doing?” Jinyoung closes his eyes. “Were you reading?” Unexpectedly, a pause lingers and the stillness quickly forces Jinyoung to open his eyes. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to pry, I—”

“It’s… fine,” the other man cuts, and Jinyoung can sense the sheepishness though he does hope that he doesn’t make the chef awkward or uncomfortable. “It’s just – oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up – ouch! Why did you – sorry, Jinyoung, my cat suddenly bit my finger… and now she abandons me.”

When he was a kid, Jinyoung’s parents never allowed him to keep a pet, and so the interest in taking any living being under his care – save for Mark – never came up as he grew up. That is most likely also the reason he never fully understands why a pet owner-slash-slave speaks in a certain manner to their animal companions, especially when they are being ditched, perhaps for a cozier sleeping spot – Jinyoung merely concludes that the main cause is the loss of comfort. However, he is positive that he’s never heard any pet owner-slash-slave who complaints adorably just like Jaebeom just did.

But it’s Jaebeom, after all, and Jinyoung is biased.

And Jinyoung is fully aware that he’s falling, and falling fast, he is. It’s something he’s already familiar with for he had done it in the past – not only once or twice, but enough to make his brain tell him what may become of him should he land on the cold, hard concrete of harsh reality, when no one’s there to catch him. But Jinyoung is a little greedy when it comes to what his heart wants, a main reason why he chose this career path.

This time, he’s not any less greedy, not when the attraction between both of them are _real_ , and Jinyoung can feel it even without having to see Jaebeom in flesh – the way he always hums gently when Jinyoung’s telling him a story of his mundane life, how he chuckles heartily when he mentions a joke one of his part-timers told, and even when all he does is nothing but breathing softly just to tell Jinyoung that _he’s there_. So he falls and falls and falls…

The night resumes, and both of them indulge in the quietness, sharing pieces of their soul with each other in every story of their past. Unfortunately, the reality that both of them have to resume their daily life in the morning forces them to end their conversation, though not without promising each other about tomorrow.

As Jinyoung surrenders to the sleepiness, he hopes that he’s not the only one who’s falling this time.

*

The pout crumpling Youngjae’s lips nearly makes Jinyoung give in – _nearly_ , because he immediately remembers that he just sent Jaebeom a message, announcing that he’ll reach the shop in 45 minutes or so. “I’m sorry,” Jinyoung fixes the strap of his leather postman bag on the shoulder – a gift from Mark when he was promoted – and offers a sincere apologetic smile. “I’ve got a plan already.”

Youngjae is one of the very few coworkers Jinyoung can actually call a friend. They’ve known each other since the start of their internship five years ago, followed by a period of two years working together as junior reporters in City Desk, where both of them were often found camping in the police station or city hall lobby. Even after Jinyoung moved to Business Desk, they still occasionally spend time together for dinner or drink after work.

“It’s okay,” Youngjae shrugs, the pout still lingers on his tired face. “Chaeryeong and Younghyun kind of miss you, and it looks like you’ve been busier than usual this week so I thought we could have dinner with others.”

“What will you guys have for dinner?” Jinyoung glances at the clock on the wall – it’s almost 8 p.m. “I’m going to order chicken from Gyeyeolsa so if you want chicken, perhaps we can go together?”

“Oh,” the other’s face lights up, and the frown disappears without a trace, “we’ll have _samgyeopsal_. Hyunjin’s treat; he told me he’s been craving it for days.”

It’s Jinyoung’s turn to pout this time, “Aw, too bad.” He fixes the strap of his bag once again and offers a gentle squeeze on Youngjae’s shoulder. “I must leave now. See you tomorrow!” And right at the moment Youngjae answers with an ‘okay’, the man dashes towards the lift and leaves the building right away, the tail of his coat flapping on his back.

Gyeyeolsa, the fried chicken restaurant Jinyoung dubs the best in town, is actually in the opposite direction from where Ugly Cake Shop is located. As expected, by the time Jinyoung reaches the restaurant, it’s already crowded by people who are looking for an early night snack, and Jinyoung has to wait for 30 minutes for his order. Since Gyeyeolsa only serves fried chicken and there’s no _yangnyeom_ chicken, Jinyoung isn’t supposed to have to wait longer.

But only when it’s ten past nine does Jinyoung finally stand before the only entrance of Ugly Cake Shop – the shop is still bright, yet the sign hung on the arched glass door reads ‘closed’. Jaebeom has told him before that the shop closes at 9 p.m and Jinyoung can just slip in because the door is unlocked as long there’s someone inside.

Quietly, Jinyoung pushes the door open and enters the space – Ugly Cake Shop still smells like butter, and the scent helps him relax. Heading towards the counter, the black-haired man suddenly finds his chest thumping, his heart beating frantically.

“Calm down, Park Jinyoung,” he whispers to himself and lets out a puff of air from his mouth, shifting the center of his stance from one foot to another. Silence accompanies him, though not for too long for the man he’s been wanting to meet again finally makes the grand appearance from the other room, the one Jinyoung still assumes the kitchen.

Im Jaebeom still looks as stunning as he was on the first time Park Jinyoung saw him, with his long hair tied up in a small bun on the back, the loose strands around his face sways lightly in every step that takes him closer to Jinyoung. The nose stud is still there, though this time Jinyoung’s focus lands on the eye make-up, made more visible as the orbs of Jaebeom’s dark eyes disappear into a pair of crescents.

“You’re late,” the pleasant tremble in Jaebeom’s voice shows no sign of irritation. Rather, it’s as warm as the smile on his face as he leans in from where he stands on the other side of the counter. “Didn’t you tell me before that you’d set a higher standard?”

Apparently, the drumming inside his chest doesn’t stop Jinyoung’s lips from blossoming into a smile, mirroring the warmth Jaebeom radiates. “I didn’t know it was a date this time.” Putting the plastic bag where a bucket of fried chicken is in on the countertop, he asks, “Fried chicken, Sir?”

The chef, however, ignores the food, as his eyes are still pinned on Jinyoung’s. “Well, that depends.” But since Jinyoung’s only answer is raising his eyebrows, he continues, “That depends on whether you want me to make it a date or not.” And the smile is yet to face as he adds, “Only if you’re not busy tonight.”

“Oh, well,” Jinyoung tilts his head, excited but also intrigued by the sudden invitation. After all, the fried chicken is nothing but a mere excuse just so he can see Jaebeom tonight. “Good thing that you notice it. Because the last time I checked, I knew for sure that I wasn’t a delivery guy for the best fried chicken restaurant.”

“I know.” The smile on Jaebeom’s face grows bigger, and the sight is something Jinyoung will never get tired of anytime soon, but he has to swallow his disappointment when the chef pulls himself away. “You should eat the chicken, though; I’m sure you’re starving.”

Without giving any thought, Jinyoung already blurts out, “Here?” It takes only a split second for him to realize how stupid his answer sounds. As the heat slowly burns his cheeks, Jinyoung turns his gaze to the food on the counter. “Well, I–” he clears his throat, “–brought this for you so you should eat too.” His flustered state must be that obvious from the way Jaebeom chuckles softly; as much as Jinyoung loves hearing the sound, it only makes the heat on face grow even hotter.

“No, not here. Actually, I have a better idea. We can go somewhere you can eat and rest, but you should wait for a bit.”

Yet again, Jinyoung does nothing but shoots his brows upwards.

And yet again, Jaebeom’s eyes lit up. “I live around the corner, and I don’t go home still in my work attire.”

*

Jaebeom’s place is only five minutes’ walk from the cake shop, an apartment in the city’s less-crowded area, unlike Jinyoung’s. Both of them walked in a comfortable silence, though it was broken right away by the growling coming from Jaebeom’s stomach. The chef only laughed sheepishly, and the sight made Jinyoung’s shoulder feel less tense.

Jinyoung puts on the white house slippers Jaebeom hands him. “You really live close by,” the remark easily leaves past his lips, triggered by something he recalled from the first and last time he met Jackson.

“Hm?” A puzzled look is visible on Jaebeom’s face. “Why?”

“It’s nothing,” Jinyoung straightens his back and tails behind the other man towards the living room. The place isn’t a big one, perhaps just as big as Jinyoung’s own, although it’s obvious that the chef personalizes it to make the room a comfortable one. “It’s just… Jackson told me he lived nearby.”

“Oh. Your _date_.” The chef immediately snickers; Jinyoung doesn’t need to witness it with his own eyes, but he’s positive that Jaebeom has that look of amusement plastered across his face.

Hence, all Jinyoung can do is rolling his eyes and faking his annoyance. “Yeah, laugh all you want.”

Jaebeom walks to the small open kitchen, located on the other corner of the room, and Jinyoung awkwardly chooses to sit on the floor with his legs crossed, flanked between the white coffee table and the couch. His eyes wander around the room aimlessly, and they finally land on the open shelf next to the TV stand. It houses books of various titles as well as manga, in addition to various sketches and small paintings.

Despite the curiosity, Jinyoung finds himself more comfortable now that he’s sitting down on the carpeted floor. Thus, he merely squints his eyes, trying to read the title of the books printed on the spine – he immediately passes one and makes an attempt to read the next book once he can’t really make out the words.

His concentration, however, is broken by the question, “Why are you sitting down there?” Jaebeom’s hair is loose down now, the shoulder-length strands frame his face – frowning – as the man stares down.

Jinyoung immediately tears his gaze away from the shelf and lifts up his stare, grinning awkwardly. “It’s more comfortable this way,” the small laugh escaping his lips can’t even fool him – it almost feels like being caught red-handedly trying to pry into someone’s privacy. Though, in all honesty, he’s indeed sitting comfortably.

From the way Jaebeom squints his eyes, the man obviously doesn’t buy it, though he says nothing anyway. Quietly, he sets up the table and then lowers himself to sit next to Jinyoung, leaving enough gap between their knees to keep their personal space intact.

“Oh, right,” Jaebeom tucks his hair behind the ears and grabs the remote to turn on the TV, “While you’re here, I can just give the books I want to lend you.” After flipping through the channels, he finally puts down the remote when he comes across a talk show.

Wiping his hands clean with the wet tissue, Jinyoung murmurs, “Okay.”

“Then I’ll just have to find a new excuse to meet you,” adds Jaebeom before putting a piece of chicken into his mouth, beaming brightly Jinyoung can easily notice the twin moles on the long-haired man’s left eyelid.

With a chuckle, Jinyoung simply answers, “You’re free to come over and bring me chicken after work next time.”

“Is it why you told me you wanted to drop by the shop and bring chicken?”

This time, Jinyoung knows for sure that he doesn’t have to think twice, knowing that he won’t have to hide any form of embarrassment from a single word that leaves his lips as he says, “Yes.” And when their knees brush lightly, Jinyoung turns his head, finding Jaebeom’s lips blooming into yet another warm, pretty smile, his eye smile is no longer a foreign sight to Jinyoung’s eyes.

Apparently, the moment isn’t exclusive to both of them. Because when a loud meow echoes in the room and the furry creature enters the scene, Jinyoung immediately knows that it’s the sole reason that ignites the genuine smile spreading across Jaebeom’s lips. Swallowing a chuckle, Jinyoung finds himself somehow silly for feeling something quite like a jealousy – with _a cat_ , even – though he will never mind basking under the sight before his eyes anyway.

*

“I thought your place would be filled with mostly books and bakeware,” says Jinyoung from the kitchen, his chest swells with pride upon the sight of clean dishes he just finished.

Jaebeom is sitting on the sofa, absent-mindedly rubbing Nora’s chin with his eyes fixated on whatever show on TV right now. “Guess so. I’ve heard that often.” His hair is damp after a quick shower, because the man apparently ‘isn’t used to wearing make-up once he’s home’ or something along the way. And so he returned to the living room in an oversized old T-shirt, revealing his bare face that completely contrasts the looks he’s got when the make-up is on.

That somehow reminds Jinyoung of the first time he stepped into Ugly Cake Shop and set his eyes on Jaebeom – the contrast was, and still is, captivating (though he’s also fully aware of how partial he is).

Once Jinyoung is done in the kitchen and back to the living room, he hunkers down only to be stopped by a firm grip on his arm. Turning his head, he’s met with Jaebeom who immediately releases his hold to pat the empty space next to him on the couch. The cat is lying sideways on his lap, snuggling in the loose fabric of the old T-shirt, the one which actual color is already unknown after prolonged use and frequent wash.

The clock hung above the TV stand reads 10.40 p.m. and Jinyoung is full, a little tipsy from the cold beer he and Jaebeom had for dinner, and sleepy. When he unlocks his phone, he finds it unsurprising to see new messages from Mark.

_Mark: Where art thou?_

_Mark: Oy, Park Jinyoung._

_Mark: I made_ japchae _with the remaining stuffs in your fridge and spared a bowl for you. You can reheat it later when you’re home._

_Mark: And you’re welcome._

_Jinyoung: I’m at a friend’s. And thanks!_

“Okay, so,” Jinyoung locks his phone and returns it to the coffee table, now clean with no trace from their meal, “I thought I’d find only bakeware and books in your place.”

Jaebeom glances at him, a scoff escapes his lips as they form a smile, “Because books and baking aren’t my only interest.”

A look of amusement spreads on Jinyoung’s face as he leans back to the couch. “Oooh, care to share?”

“You are such a curious creature, Park Jinyoung,” Jaebeom hums, the smile is yet to vanish on his face. And with the make-up no longer there, Jinyoung finds the long-haired man appears less flirtatious, though he’s still attractive nonetheless.

“I’ve been in the media and journalism industry for years, and I used to be a field reporter, Chef.” The smile on Jinyoung’s lips grow wider, and the creases form on the corner of his eyes. “Curiosity is what feeds me and pays for my bills.”

A quiet mewl chimes in as the cat stirs from her slumber, and the sound urges Jaebeom to remove his fingers from Nora’s stomach, especially once his hand earns a kick from her back leg. However, it doesn’t stop the man from petting her, as his thumb rubs the cat’s head this time. “Well, of course I bake at home, but only occasionally. Here’s the place where I do… different things.”

“Like reading,” adds Jinyoung.

Jaebeom nods. “Yeah, like reading. But like I told you, books and baking aren’t my only interest.” But Jinyoung merely tilts his head slightly to the side and keeps staring at him, silently telling Jaebeom to continue his story. The man chews the inside of his cheeks, and Jinyoung immediately recalls the brief sheepishness he sensed from him last night.

“Uh, you don’t have to tell me if it makes you feel uncomf—”

“Sometimes I make music.”

“Oh?”

“Well, yeah…” The pink glows on Jaebeom’s cheeks, and it looks only more apparent as the man tries to hide his shyness with a chuckle. “You heard me. It’s… nothing big, really.”

“And you,” Jinyoung’s eyes light up, the man straightens up his back and turns himself to focus his view on Jaebeom, “make music here, in your apartment?”

Jaebeom cocks his chin to the corner of the room, directing Jinyoung’s gaze to a closed door next to the bookshelf. “In _that_ room, to be precise.”

Jinyoung follows the direction with his eyes, his lips forming an ‘o’ once he spots the door. However, his attention is back to Jaebeom. “That’s cool, you know? I never knew anyone who makes music before. Sure, Mark knows someone or a dozen because he sometimes helps organize an art performance or concert, but I never actually meet them.”

“But it’s not something… big. I sometimes help my friends too whenever they need it, so it’s more like that ‘behind the scene’ thing. I only help produce the songs and stuff.” But from the way he speaks, it’s way too easy for Jinyoung to notice the pride and love in Jaebeom’s voice.

“Is it what you did last night? Before I called?” When Jaebeom murmurs his ‘yeah’ and nods his head, directing his gaze to the cat on his lap, Jinyoung can barely hide the delight from his face.

“Jinyoung?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to spend the night here?”

To say that Jinyoung is struck with surprise will be an utter understatement. Though he realizes how fast he’s falling, the question Jaebeom proposes ignites a flicker of hope that maybe, _maybe_ he’s not the only one who’s falling this time.

But Jaebeom must notice the look in Jinyoung’s rounded eyes. Because hastily, he adds, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” Heaving a long sigh, the man lifts his cat only to put it on the carpeted floor, fully ignoring her complaint, and he turns to face Jinyoung. “Like, I know you must be tired now and want to be home and rest, but I just want to… talk, I guess? And I know we can do it later and plan for another time but I’m afraid that our schedule won’t match again because I’m not quite sure I can wait anymore, because I really, really want to know you better. Like, right now. We’re both adults and I’m sure as hell you notice this _thing_ between us and I don’t feel like playing push and pull and whatnot because I’m so attracted to you and I know that you feel the same too.”

The smile on Jaebeom’s face looks stiff, and the nervousness on the dark surface of his eyes is as clear as day.

“I’m sorry,” Jaebeom sweeps the loose strands away from his face, “but that’s just how I feel right now. About _you_.” There’s a hint of frustration in the way he heaves another long sigh and throws his back against the couch. And despite the nervous look, the determined one still burns bright in his eyes.

After a few moments, filled with nothing but silence – and the rustling noise coming from the cat toy Nora is playing right now – Jinyoung only chuckles and leans back, mirroring Jaebeom’s sitting position. He then turns his head, meeting the pair of small eyes that suddenly makes his imagination go further, and finally lets words escape from his lips. “With that level of determination, you could’ve made a great reporter, you know?”

Confusion now clouds Jaebeom’s face.

“I probably will have to leave at six in the morning. So, where should I crash tonight?”

*

When Jinyoung enters the bedroom, feeling fresh after shower and slipping in the T-shirt and joggers Jaebeom lends him, he’s unsure what he should feel about the presence of the Siamese cat who occupies the center of the bed. But Nora, obviously, isn’t bothered at all by him, as she continues grooming herself, stretching her hind leg upwards so she can reach her furry belly.

 _Just as if it’s not awkward at all_ … A sigh escapes his lips and he carefully tread towards the side of the bed Jaebeom made in a hurry when Jinyoung was cleaning himself. The long-haired man had insisted that Jinyoung should have the bed because he’s the guest, and he’d sleep on the couch instead. Just as mindfully, he sits on the edge of the bed and stares at the cat. “I’m sorry,” the cat stares back at him, “but your human won’t be sleeping here tonight.” _Or won’t he?_ he wonders inside his head, directing his gaze to the door he’s left ajar so Nora can leave the room whenever she likes.

Jinyoung spends nearly half an hour making himself comfortable in bed; it’s not like the queen bed isn’t comfortable at all, but he doesn’t feel good about taking the bed when he wouldn’t mind crashing on the couch at all. But as he couldn’t stop yawning and cracking his neck while they were talking in the living room, concern dawned upon Jaebeom’s frowning face thus they – or Jaebeom, actually – decided to call it a night, and the rest is history.

His eyes roam around the room, taking notes of the traces of Jaebeom inside. The room boasts the simplicity as accentuated by the neutral palette from floor to ceiling. However, just like how the cakes bring colors to Ugly Cake Shop’s similar palette, it’s the books (Jinyoung appreciates this choice of decor, of course), potted plants, and framed photographs inside the chamber – even Nora’s food bowl and water fountain are as colorful.

He heaves a long sigh; the drowsiness is still there but not strong enough yet to lull him to sleep. Turning around to face the wall – cautiously, because the cat is now napping oh-so-soundly in bed – Jinyoung glances at his phone that’s sitting on top of the bedside table. He then reaches out, and it takes only a moment for him to send the message.

_Jinyoung: Hey, I don’t feel good about taking over your bed and I’m sure there’s more than enough space for three of us._

_Jinyoung: Come inside, I’m not that tired now so we can continue talking._

_Jaebeom: Park Jinyoung, it’s 1.05._

_Jinyoung: Yet you’re still awake._

The creak intrudes the silence, though not for long, and Jinyoung can _hear_ the hesitation that lingers for a few moments, and it seems like Jaebeom has found the resolve once the quiet thud coming from the closed door follows. Though Jaebeom knows that Jinyoung is still awake, the man still attempts to make the faintest noise possible, the quiet rustle when he slips under the blanket included.

When the bed dips under the weight does Jinyoung finally turn around, the empty wall is now facing his back and the gentle look in Jaebeom’s sleepy stare greets him.

Jinyoung whispers, “You look like you can pass out any time.” An apologetic look flashes in his eyes, a brief moment that’s easily missed but Jaebeom catches it nonetheless.

And of course, he’s still staring at Jinyoung _like that_. “I’m the one who made you stay, so I should be the one responsible as well.”

“I’ve got this question that keeps poking me.” Still lying on his side, Jinyoung raises his body slightly and props his head on his hand, his arms in a crook; Jaebeom’s raised brows meet the frown crumpling Jinyoung’s forehead. “Are you the idiot who, out of every possible and appropriate name for a cake shop, named yours Ugly Cake Shop?”

Jaebeom’s eye smile soon emerges. “Guilty as charged,” his voice trembles with quiet laughter, his hand reaches out for the cat who, perhaps finally recognizing her human slave, mewls as she snuggles closer to him. Jaebeom coos quietly when Nora rests her head against his chest.

The pure joy in Jaebeom’s voice naturally tugs the invisible string on the corner of Jinyoung lips upwards, a puff of chuckle escaping his mouth chimes in. “Why?”

“Easy,” Jaebeom’s black hair is a stark contrast against the creamy yellow pillow and Jinyoung is relieved that he’s still got to pull his free hand from playing with the long strands, “because I’m ugly.”

The tempting idea of tousling Jaebeom’s hair is quickly swapped with the baffling look on Jinyoung’s face. “What?”

Jaebeom must find the expression on Jinyoung’s face funny, especially since he chortles after glancing at the other man, whose nose crinkles to demonstrate the disagreement with the answer. “Well, I’m just being objective here. You should see my friends; they’re either pretty or stunning, beautiful or gorgeous, handsome or sexy.”

Jinyoung’s narrowed eyes give the chef another looks of disbelief. “I’m sorry, but from the first time I saw you, I think you’re all of those qualities you just pointed out.”

“I suppose that’s the… makeup—” a loud yawn escapes Jaebeom’s mouth, the noise makes the cat tap her tail, “—so I do a good job with it, I guess?” A sleepy smile emerges, the sight makes Jinyoung scream ‘aww’ internally. “And then you came, and the list of attractive people around me only grows.”

“Thank you.” Because of course Jinyoung knows how to respond to compliments – after all, his mother taught him to always appreciate people’s kindness, big or small. “I’m still opposing you, though, because you’re just as attractive even with no makeup.”

“Thank you?”

Jinyoung shrugs and fixes the position of his head. “You should mean it. Take the compliment, because I really mean it.”

But Jaebeom says nothing as he merely beams widely, his upper teeth are showing. The small eyes crinkle and Jinyoung takes in the scene, even when the smile disappears because Jaebeom buries his nose in his cat’s furry back – the blushing cheeks aren’t that hard to notice anyway.

“So now you’ve figured out that I lack confidence in terms of appearance,” Jaebeom’s voice fills in the comfortable silence growing around them, “what about you?”

“Me?” Jinyoung blinks, trying to comprehend the question as his wandering mind retreats back to reality in a snap.

“Yeah, you.” Smirking, Jaebeom scoffs when he gives the other male a glance. “There’s no way my cat here possesses any shortcoming because she’s just so perfect.”

The response only makes Jinyoung roll his eyes, though he does it with no sign of annoyance, not even a bit. “Heh,” Jinyoung lays supine with his arms folded on his stomach, “you mean _purr_ -fect.”

“Do you always use puns among your peers?”

Pursing his lips, Jinyoung shakes his head lightly and turns his head sideways, meeting Jaebeom’s eyes. “We don’t really talk about pets. But it’s fun to finally have an opportunity to use cat puns with you.”

“It’s an honor, then,” the smile reaches Jeabum’s eyes, the orbs yet again disappear in such a pleasant way. “Okay so, what’s your answer? Dodging bullet because you don’t want to acknowledge that you’ve got something quite like a weakness?”

Almost on a reflex, Jinyoung lightly swats Jaebeom – or any part of his he can reach – and unfortunately, he flicks the napping cat instead. Nora’s yowling is soon followed by her attempt to depart from the bed, even after Jaebeom tries to appease her by holding and rubbing her. Unfortunately, the cat is too annoyed already, and so she jumps down from the bed, though she does it only once she lightly bites Jaebeom’s hand first.

“Well, seems like this will be a big concern for me,” it’s Jaebeom’s turn to hit Jinyoung back lightly, “if you’d keep Nora from snuggling with me every night.”

The remark leaves something for Jinyoung to contemplate about, given how clear Jaebeom’s message is, thus allowing the silence to reclaim the space albeit only for a moment. And when he finally speaks, he merely points out the obvious, “You’re pretty much a straightforward person, aren’t you?”

“Told you, Park Jinyoung,” the said man doesn’t have to turn to see the smile blossoming on Jaebeom’s face, “I don’t want to play push and pull. Just because my face can’t help but blush occasionally, it doesn’t mean I should hold back. Especially when I know that we’re both on the same page.”

Jinyoung blinks, and the white ceiling is still the one that stares him back. There is this sudden urge to pull the long-haired man closer, but Jinyoung swallows the thought to the back of his mind, knowing that he’ll have the time to finally give in to the temptation as long as everything works out for both of them – or as long as he doesn’t fuck up his chance, of course.

“It’s my temperament,” answers Jinyoung, at last. “It’s not like I get angry all the time, but often I react too quickly, and so my emotions may get the best of me. That’s why I don’t really… express myself, because I always have to be careful, especially in my line of work.”

Jaebeom shifts, placing his arms under his head. “I see.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t think rationally, of course – otherwise, I wouldn’t have survived in this industry since day one. But… well, I naturally react first, and my rational thinking follows suit. That’s why I taught myself to always hold back and rationalize first when I was in high school, so I could plan and respond accordingly. But sometimes I may come across as indecisive since I don’t always decide on something immediately.” Jinyoung chews the inside of his cheeks, unwillingly recalling the times his lecturers and superiors always advised him.

‘ _You shouldn’t think too much_ ,’ they said, but they also often reprimanded him during the several times he became ‘too emotional’, asking him to be more ‘thoughtful’ and ‘careful’.

Sometimes, Jinyoung finds it a wonder that he could still earn the promotion, knowing how many times his senior editor and editor-in-chief criticize him for being a little too emotional for a reporter.

“That’s a good thing, I suppose,” Jaebeom’s answer is too unexpected, and Jinyoung shoots his brows upwards upon the response. “Because you think thoroughly and often consider the consequences of your action first. Besides,” when Jaebeom turns his head sideways, some strands fall across his forehead, “I can always tell you whenever it seems like you keep things to yourself too much.”

The prospect sounds promising, and Jinyoung feels a sense of relief washing over him. For years, he’s learned the hard way to acknowledge that his emotions are his, and they’ve always been an important part of him, something that makes him _human_.

But in this real world, emotions are way too often considered a hindrance, especially in the professional life, and more particularly in the journalism industry where he’s always expected to be as tough, hard, and somewhat indifferent as a stone, inside and out. There are way too little people he can always entrust emotionally, and the possibility that Jaebeom is willing to be one of them is of course an opportunity Jinyoung doesn’t want to waste, not when he’s heard it from the man himself.

And following the relief, an abundance of emotions is filling him up, almost like how the waves are crashing on the shore. Jinyoung wish he could express his appreciation better, but the only words that manage to slip between his lips are, “Thank you,” whispered gently and echoed by the quietness of the night that engulfs them.

The silence grows more and more comfortable, and only then does drowsiness finally reclaim Jinyoung’s mind. When a yawn pushes itself from Jinyoung’s mouth, Jaebeom whispers, “We should sleep.”

And wordlessly, Jinyoung closes his eyes, though not longer for a few seconds. Because Jaebeom nudges and asks him, softly, to roll onto the side. Absentmindedly, Jinyoung turns to face the other man, only to feel a hand push him back.

“No,” Jaebeom whispers, drowsily, “turn the other way around.”

Jinyoung opens his eyes only to find an undeciphered look on Jaebeom’s face, and he’s too sleepy to translate it. So he merely follows what Jaebeom tells him, not giving any single thought given how harmless Jaebeom’s request is. Once he finds himself the most comfortable lying on his side, he lets out a sigh.

As it turns out, Jaebeom is yet to stop giving him a surprise.

Because again and again, when he’s ready to fall into the familiar darkness inside his closed eyes, he’s distracted and this time he feels the warmth on his back. A little startled, Jinyoung is about to roll around, only to be gently pushed back by a hand. He can feel Jaebeom’s head snuggle a little higher than where the small of his back is, as well as something against the back of his legs – Jinyoung assumes that it’s Jaebeom’s knees.

“Feels like I should tell you that Yugyeom, a friend,” Jaebeom murmurs languidly, “told me that I was the small big spoon. Or _smol_ , with an O and single L. Might be because I snuggle with Nora too often.”

The unexpected confession triggers the muscles of Jinyoung’s face to form a small arch on his lips. Without even bothering to open his eyes, he simply asks, “And would you mind being an actual small spoon?”

“I wouldn’t,” Jaebeom sighs, “but we can save it for later, can’t we?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jinyoung feels the warmth spread to his fingertips.

“One more thing. I promise it’ll be the last.”

“Hm?”

“Have you started to like me more?”

And of course, the answer takes no longer than a mere second to slip past Jinyoung’s lips. “Can’t help but do, Im Jaebeom.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many dialogues I hope they didn't bore y'all to tears ;A; next chapter will be the last and conclude this story, and ofc there'll be a ///BIG/// revelation too. Thanks for reading! x


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